Rise of the Dark Lord
by Grimaldus
Summary: The Order of the Phoenix expects the Dark Lord to return, but Fate has played its hand. Instead of one, there were twins, and while the world believes one must carry the burden of the prophecy, in truth the other has already borne it. Years have passed and while the Dark Lord has risen, it is not the crazed madman that was once Tom Riddle, but someone different altogether.


Chapter 1: Dark Lord

When they apparated to wandpoints instead of the clearing, Lily Potter knew they had been betrayed. She stared wide-eyed at the Death Eater in front of her, the silver mask leering as the man behind it pointed his wand into her face. Beside her, James materialized into view with a loud pop, gave a shout at the sight of his wife being held at wandpoint, made to cast and then stopped, grimacing as the second Death Eater jabbed his wand into his back. Sirius and Remus shared a similar fate. One by one the Order apparated in, and one by one they were swiftly detained and disarmed. Arthur stood protectively in front of his wife as three dark wizards covered them, wands hovering over the two Weasleys. Nymphadora Tonks's hair flashed various shades of grey as a Death Eater deprived her of her wand. The young metamorphmagus winced as another stepped behind her and shoved his wand towards her head. McGonagall looked calm as she too was surrounded. The only outward sign of emotion the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts gave was a faint flaring of her nostrils. Mad-Eye Moody was the only one who fought. When Death Eaters came for his him, he struggled and managed to break free from their grasp. Then, a heavy elbow smashed into the back of his head, and the grizzled ex-auror slumped forward, magical eye lolling loosely in its socket. They hauled him back up, one to an arm, and dragged him off to the side.

"Severus," Albus Dumbledore's voice was filled with disappointment as he stared at the back of the spy they had entrusted their lives to. The aged wizard seemed to not notice the half dozen of wands that were constantly trained on him.

Snape did not even deign them worthy of a response. Instead, he conferred with two Death Eaters who had suddenly appeared from the shadows, talking in low tones. After what seemed like an eternity, Snape turned to them, his expression emotionless.

"The Dark Lord will see you now."

Lily recoiled. She had always known that Severus loathed her husband as well as Sirius and Remus, but she did not think he would stoop so low as to betray them. From James's hate-filled glare, however, she knew her husband shared none of her reservations.

"You're no better than Peter," he spat in the man's direction.

If James had expected a reaction, he was to be disappointed. Snape didn't even look at him. Instead, the former spy turned on his heel and began marching for two immense doors that seemed like the only way out. Lily had a sinking suspicion that was where they were headed as well. She was proven correct when the Death Eaters began pushing them forward, herding them towards the doorway.

"We can break free," she heard Moody mutter to Dumbledore, "Give me the word, Albus, and I'll take the bastards down and we can go for our wands."

"It would be a futile effort old friend," the old wizard replied, his face remarkably serene despite the circumstances, "There are dampening fields placed all around us. Even if we broke free, casting magic in a place like this would prove fatal. I suspect Voldemort has planned long and hard for this."

To this, Moody just grunted.

The immense doors creaked opened as they neared, their heavy oaken frames decorated in intricate patterns. Then they were shoved in unceremoniously, many of them staggering as they crossed. The sudden brightness blinded them for a bare second, and then they saw what the doors had hid.

"Merlin," Sirius breathed.

They were in a vast hallway, as wide as a muggle highway and many meters in length. Great, ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling, dim candles clinging to their branches and giving off sinister flickers of light. Massive pillars sprouted from the ground, each column lavished with symbols of coiled snakes and flying dragons. The floor they walked on was black granite marble, the surface so smooth and cold to the touch that Lily could feel the chill even through her shoes. It gave off a menacing, dark atmosphere, the entire hallway, but that was not what had caused Sirius to curse and her heart to suddenly pound.

It was the Death Eaters.

On each side of them, their backs to the walls, standing in silent, orderly ranks, were Death Eaters. Their hands were clasped behind their backs in military fashion, legs spread slightly ajar as Lily had seen muggle soldiers do when they stood at attention. Alongside the usual sneering masks were heavy combat vests, worn over black robes and cloaks. She noticed with morbid fascination the various vials filled with fluid that hung attached from belts. They almost resembled hand-grenades in the way they were being carried. These Death Eaters were different, she realized. Gone was the vindictive air, the evil aura that she was used to. These held a professional quality to them, a certain martial prowess that their earlier brethren simply did not possess. And there was a great many of them. They lined the walls as far as the eye could see, and Lily estimated there were hundreds of them at least gathered in this one hallway.

The Death Eaters made no sound as they passed. They were like silent statues, utterly still and unmoving. The only signs of life they gave were the eyes behind the slits in their masks. An occasional blink or flutter was all that betrayed them as living.

It unnerved her. It unnerved all of them. Even Moody, whose hatred for all things dark was well known, seemed unusually subdued as they were pushed and prodded through the hallway.

And in the meantime, the silent Death Eaters just stared, tracking their progress without a single word uttered.

It was almost with relief that they reached the end, two great doors even larger than the first pair. They were more gate than door, solid steel constructs that loomed like edifices above them. Where they came together, a laughing skull entwined by a hissing serpent stared at them, empty eye sockets alight with eerie green embers.

"Voldemort," James said underneath his breath.

As though if confirming his words, the gate suddenly opened, each door swinging outwards to the tune of groaning hinges. They were ushered in as quickly as the first time, and as Lily stepped through, she got a glimpse of the one who whom they called Dark Lord.

He sat on a throne of obsidian stone, atop a raised circular dais, his features obscured by a cloak of black silk. His hands were gathered in fists beneath his chin, his hooded face resting on them in an almost thoughtful position. Yet, even in this pensive posture his lean frame radiated power, filling the antechamber they had gathered in with an aura of dominating magic.

Around him, the Inner Circle stood, rigid and erect in black combat robes. And unlike the Death Eaters they had passed in the hall, these were unmasked.

Lily could see the aristocratic face of Lucius Malfoy staring down at them in disdain. The hard, scarred features of Antonin Dolohov. The sneering grimace of Walden Macnair. Thorfinn Rowle, Yaxley and Travers, the Carrows, and a dozen others, looking at them with mute indifference. And Bellatrix Lestrange, standing nearest to the throne, her hauntingly beautiful face pulled up in a rictus leer.

The doors being closed behind them sounded like a death knell to their ears.

Lily let out a little gasp when Snape stalked up the dais to join them, his face an expressionless mask. A murmur rose from the Order, dark mutterings of betrayal on their lips. She suspected the only reason they did not shout out were the Death Eaters pointing wands at their backs.

Then the figure on the throne rose, and the room grew quiet once more.

Everything about him was dangerous. From the way he walked down the steps, every footfall making a dull, threatening thud that reverberated in the chamber, to the way he held his posture, tense and coiled like some immense predator.

At the very bottom step, the cloak came off, drifting over his shoulder to gather gracefully at the podium's bottom. What was revealed was not Voldemort at all but something that made her vision blurry with shock.

Green eyes. Her green eyes. On a face that looked just like James's. And the lightning scar, prominent on his forehead. He looked just like she remembered him, but older.

"H-Harry?" she whispered.

His chiseled features widened in a smile at the same time James staggered in shock and Sirius cried out. Dumbledore suddenly looked very old and worn.

"Mother," he replied neutrally.

She did not dare turn from the gaze of those green orbs. They held her in their power, mesmerizing her, rooting her to her spot. And that smile. It was not threatening, but nor was it welcoming. It was cold, indifferent, carved in marble and etched on a face that should have never worn it in the first place. Then he was in front of her, his hand reaching out.

"Harry! Harry please!" James made for her, then halted, grimacing as the Death Eater behind him dug his wand into his back, "Please, Harry, if you want revenge, use me! Don't hurt her! Don't hurt your mum!"

Harry ignored him. Slowly, tenderly his fingers drifted up her cheek, brushing softly against her cheek. Instantly, her eyes brimmed with tears.

"You've aged, Lily," was all he said. Then he moved on, stalking towards her husband who watched on anxiously.

"James," he smiled, his eyes moving up and down the man's frame as though if examining some fresh specimen.

"Harry, I-"

By then her son had prowled past him to stand before Moony and Padfoot.

"Sirius," the mentioned man winced and took an involuntary step back, "Remus," Lupin regarded him with wide eyes, then shook his head as though in denial. Turning, he regarded the rest of the prisoners with amusement, "And the Order of the Phoenix."

They stared back at him in stunned horror. Harry just smiled.

"You've done well, Severus," he remarked off-handedly.

Snape inclined his head in acknowledgment. Turning, Harry strode back towards the throne, stopping in the middle of the steps to face them again.

"You are wondering," he said softly, "how it came to be this way? How I," he swept a hand to the Death Eaters behind him, "became what I am today?"

They could only stare back in shock. Harry turned his gaze to Dumbledore.

"You chose the wrong boy."

The old headmaster looked stricken.

"It wasn't your fault, though," in contrast, Harry's face seemed peaceful, serene even, "Despite his madness, Voldemort was no fool. When the Killing Curse rebounded and struck him, it shattered his physical body, but not his soul. He realized if he lingered, then he would be easily caught in his most vulnerable state by his mortal enemies. So he chose a vessel that could contain him, a vessel that he had mistakenly marked in an attempt to destroy," the boy smiled that cold smile once more, "He was in my head for a very long time."

Lily's mind reeled at the information. To her side, James let out a strangled "no".

"I detected no traces of dark magic in your body, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly.

"Voldemort was no fool," the young man repeated, "He cloaked his presence as soon as he entered my conscience. You've never suspected the dark spell he used left lingering traces on my brother, but somehow I was untouched? He hid it, Dumbledore, hid it so well that I was only aware of it years after that day. The existence of dark magic on Nathan was merely a coincidence."

Albus closed his eyes, and when he opened them again there was a sadness in them that Lily could not describe.

"I… I have failed you, my boy."

To this, Harry merely shrugged.

"It was not your fault, Dumbledore," his gaze switched back to her and James, "Nor was it yours. You gave me a roof over my head. Fed me. Listened to my childish prattle, and played with me. Loved me. The only thing you did wrong was give a little more attention to Nathan. But that was to be expected. He was the one in the prophecy, after all. You weren't sure he would survive the fight with Voldemort when the Dark Lord rose once more. You wanted as much time as possible with him. I don't blame you for that."

"H-Harry," she whimpered.

"So then why did you leave?" James asked, his voice breaking as his son's eyes turned to him.

At once Harry's face turned into an ugly scowl.

"Because he was in my head!" he snarled, and they shrank back at the sudden vehemence in his tone, "When he melded into my body, his mind became my mind! His thoughts became my thoughts! His memories became my memories!" Molly let out a loud gasp at that, and beside her, McGonagall looked like she was going to be sick, "He made me watch, you know. Every murder. Every torture. Every evil deed. I watched them again and again, until I could memorize the people he killed and the dates he killed them on."

"Oh Harry," Lily sobbed, "Why didn't you tell us?"

The Order could only watch on in horrified silence.

"I tried," the serene expression had returned to his face, "But he was cunning, and every time I convinced you for me to see a healer he would cloak himself like the first time. And when the healers said that there was nothing wrong, you stopped listening. You thought I was jealous of Nathan."

Those last words had been mocking. Lily had wanted to protest, but then she remembered. Remembered the way Harry had begged her to take her to a healer, Dumbledore, anyone, and how she had been exasperated at him. She wasn't sure that guilt could feel this painful.

"He made me think things I didn't want to think. He made me think those thoughts were mine. He made me believe that I wanted to do these things, no matter how heinous, how evil they were," Harry paused, as though if recollecting some distant memory, "Sometimes, I would stay awake all night because I thought he would take over when I was asleep and make me do those things he made me think. And it almost worked."

The silence was oppressive now. It hung in the air like a suffocating miasma, yet none dared to break it.

"By the age of nine, I was no longer sure you were my parents," Harry said, almost musingly, ignoring the faint gasps of disbelief that came from the Order, "By ten, I could not stand to stay in the same room with either of you. By eleven, I hated you, all of you," his gaze swept over to Sirius and Remus, who stood glued to the spot, unable to move, "_and I could not know why_. Every little thing you did wrong, he multiplied it by a hundred times. Every little mistake you committed, he made me think you did it on purpose to wrong me. It grew to the point where I could no longer live in the same house as you for I feared I would do something I would regret to the ones who loved me most."

"Harry…" Lily took a half-step forward. James did the same.

"I wandered. For how long, I do not know. I remember that I was hungry, thirsty, but all that dulled in comparison to the pain in my head. I just wanted it gone, rid of it somehow, make it go away," Harry turned his gaze sideways, "And then she found me."

Bellatrix Lestrange smiled beatifically as the man's attention was drawn to her.

"My dear Bella," the woman hissed in pleasure as he spoke her name, and Lily could not help but be revolted by the way the dark witch looked almost orgasmic as Harry moved to stand closer to her, "So cruel, yet so foolish," the words were said almost affectionately, "She thought I was a vessel for Voldemort at first. It was only later she realized that I was something more. Something better. She brought me here, to this place, and I have lived here, ever since."

He paused, and a faint frown graced his features.

"I fought him. For five years I fought him, waged a war over my own mind. I fought him in this very room, bound to a bed, chained to it because it was too painful to do anything else. Every waking hour we would clash, with the only rest being what fitful sleep I could manage before the fight would begin anew. Gradually, I gained the upper hand. As I aged, my strength grew and his waned. Until one day he was no longer able to best me," his eyes focused on the Order of the Phoenix once more, "You can tell Nathan he no longer needs to worry about the prophecy anymore."

The magnitude of his words did not hit them until a few seconds later.

"Y-You mean Voldemort is dead?" Sirius whispered.

"I killed him," the man confirmed without pause, "I crushed him," Lily noticed with trepidation the sudden shiver of fear that had passed over the gathered Death Eaters. By the time she tore her gaze back to Harry his attention was on Albus.

"He begged, Dumbledore," the old headmaster averted his eyes, "He begged for his life. One by one I gathered his horcruxes and destroyed them in front of me, in front of him. By the end he was pleading for me to spare him. He knew what would happen should I expel him from my body. The fate that would be worse than death. The doom that awaited those who dealt with horcruxes. I destroyed him, Dumbledore. His mind, his body, his soul. I laid waste to him and took back what was rightfully mine."

Harry smiled at their expressions and tapped a finger to the side of his head.

"It was not all bad. When he died, I inherited his power. All of it. And when he tormented me with his memories, I gained his knowledge. So much knowledge. It's a shame. Before Voldemort fell into madness, he was a brilliant wizard. Perhaps the most brilliant in this century. There are spells I can cast that I did not know even existed. But that leaves us in a conundrum," the man spread his arms wide in a disarming gesture, "You see, not only did I inherit his power, but I also inherited his Death Eaters, his ambitions, his _legacy_."

The unease amongst the Order grew. Lily looked up, hoping against hope that her son would not say what she thought he would say. Those hopes were dashed when he next spoke.

"I am Dark Lord now."

"No!" James let out a strangled yell. Similar reactions sounded out from the rest of the prisoners. Sirius stared up at his godson in horror. Remus refused to look up at him altogether. And Dumbledore, looking almost wilted as he gazed at the man standing on the podium.

"Harry," she heard herself say, "Please… Don't say that. You're not… him. Come back to us, and everything will be alright."

Bellaxtrix let out a loud, cackling laugh.

"As if the Dark Lord would listen to a mudblood bitch."

She growled at the word and met the witch's contemptuous sneer with hate of her own.

"Now, now, Bella," Bellatrix's face immediately turned blissful once more as Harry's voice sounded beside her, "She is still my mother."

"Of course," Lily shivered at the purr in the witch's tone, "_my lord_."

"As for coming back," Harry turned to her, "I think not. Voldemort's magic is too great to be wasted, and I confess I rather like the feeling of being powerful. There are things I would like to do with this power."

Dumbledore glanced up at the man he had once loved as a grandson.

"What are you going to do Harry?" he asked calmly.

"What do you mean what am I going to do?" the man seemed amused, "It is already done," at the old wizard's alarmed look, Harry smiled, "Voldemort wanted to rule on a throne of blood and corpses. And if he could not get that, he would have let the world burn. I find myself rather content with the world as is, pristine and unsullied. As for the throne, one of gold and silver will suffice just as well."

The Order held their breath as the realization sank in.

"That is a dark path you will be treading on, Harry," Dumbledore finally said.

"Oh good. I thought it wouldn't be dark enough for you."

A wave of amusement spread through the Death Eaters. Some of them grinned openly.

"H-Harry," Sirius sputtered, "How can you joke about this? Did you forget about Voldemort's obsession with bloody purity? And now you want to do the same thing as him?"

The man's green eyes flickered over to the Marauder and then he gestured to the large double-doors they had come in from.

"Half the Death Eaters you passed on your way here were either half-blood or muggleborn," he chuckled at their disbelieving looks, "You should not be surprised. Wizarding society has always favored purebloods over others, even before Voldemort's reign. That breeds resentment. It does not take much to win the loyalty of people who have been pushed to the bottom rung of the hierarchy for so long," the man turned his attention back to Sirius once more, "I inherited Voldemort's ambitions. I inherited his legacy. Some may even say I inherited his lust for power. What I didn't inherit, were his ideals. You will find that those are very much my own."

"Liar!" Moody shouted suddenly, "The Lestrange brothers were seen torturing muggleborns just last week! And after they were done, they marked the place with the Dark Mark!" the grizzled ex-auror spat on the floor, "_Your_ Dark Mark!"

Harry smiled disarmingly.

"Do you see Rabastan or Rodolphus anywhere amongst my council, Alastor?" Moody growled at the way the boy used his name, "No? That is because they are not in my fold. Some of Voldemort's followers remained loyal to his ideals even after I destroyed him. I purged a great many of them, but not all of them. It does not surprise me that there are still Death Eaters out there who still believe in pureblooded supremacy. Worry not. I will deal with them soon enough."

Moody was about to shout something else, but Dumbledore silenced him with a wave of his hand. Turning, the old wizard gave the man on the dais a measuring look.

"You have spoken much about yourself, Harry, but are you not afraid of us learning of your secrets?" the aged headmaster's eyebrows rose a fraction, "Unless you wish for us to be silenced here and now?"

The Order tensed. Lily could feel a rising sense of dread in her. Looking at her husband, she knew James was feeling the same way.

"Some amongst my Inner Circle might," Bellatrix bared her teeth at them. Harry ignored her and continued, "But as for myself, I have no quarrel with the Order of the Phoenix. There are some amongst you that I cared about in my youth," at this Lily looked up at her son in hope, "and though that care has been worn, I still do not wish to see you dead. Which is why all of you have been brought before me. I want to negotiate with the Order. I will not waste the lives of my Death Eaters over a war that was Voldemort's."

"Negotiate?" Dumbledore's face grew interested.

"Indeed. You will not attempt to attack or capture my Death Eaters, and I will refrain from attacking and interrogating members of the Order."

"The Order of the Phoenix was created to fight evil, Harry," the old wizard sighed, "Not just Voldemort."

Harry shrugged. The cold smile had returned.

"It is your funeral. Still, I urge you to consider my offer. Now, I may show you mercy, but on the battlefield, should we meet, I will show no such hesitation. My ambition will not be stopped by tattered memories of a life long ago lost," the man regarded them coolly, "The Ministry is corrupt. The society as a whole is corrupt. They need to be cleansed, and I will be the instrument of their downfall. From their ruins I will forge greatness. All those who are found wanting, I will leave behind."

Harry's green eyes flashed. Lily shuddered at the conviction behind them.

"And all those who choose to stand before me, I will leave as nothing but ash and dust."


End file.
